


The Nameless Person You Are When You're Alone

by MellytheHun



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, BAMF Stiles, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gratuitous LotR references, Haven't Made My Mind Up Yet, Humor, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pining Derek, Possible Eventual Smut, Protective Derek, Romance, Soulmates, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:03:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: "If somebody told you that your soul mate was someone you’ve already met, would you believe them?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by [this gif](http://derekdeservesbetter.tumblr.com/post/115852339462/if-somebody-told-you-that-your-soul-mate-was) set by Kayley ([derekdeservesbetter](http://derekdeservesbetter.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr)

Witches are strangely unlike anything Stiles had first imagined them to be. He was shocked, at first, by the limitations of magic - how much energy it requires to cast a single spell, how reality could not be warped to one's liking and only influenced in a certain direction, how devoted to the art one has to be to seriously be considered a ‘witch,’ in the supernatural community and the lack of flying brooms (he’s secretly still disappointed about that). Witches, as it turns out, are not what J.K Rowling had promised they'd be. Tolkien wasn't too far off - which got Stiles to thinking that maybe Tolkien knew more about the supernatural than even he wrote about, but he'd reflect on that another time.

The one they had met, Emilia, is nearly three-hundred years old but only looks maybe a year or so older than Derek. She wears layers of lace and satin, all dark colors, has a dark wooded staff a few inches shorter than her and wears gems and stones all over, claiming they all serve different energy-shifting purposes. The black fog that had surrounded her when they first met her is gone now - to lift the curse on her was the reason she sought them out to begin with.

Scott had nearly turned her away, thinking they’d be of little use to her with no knowledge of magic (much less dark magic) or witches, but then Derek had asked if she knew _who_ cast the curse on her - as if he knew what to do with that information. Turns out that he did and it was the usual Derek Answer to Any Problem; kill it.

Unexpectedly, Emilia really hit it off with Lydia, Allison and Stiles - Isaac seemed genuinely frightened to stand too close to her, Boyd was... well, Boyd, Erica’s colorful personality clashed a little too much with Emilia’s quiet demeanor and Derek and Scott were too obsessed with arguing every step of the way to really pay her any mind. The week-long journey it took to finish this unpleasant business was precisely what Stiles thinks everyone needed; a common goal for a good cause and Scott and Derek working _together_. It was really rather exciting and validating in ways other missions and rescues hadn’t been in the past.

Emilia taught Stiles a little bit about his ‘Spark,’ when he asked if she knew anything about it. She speaks mostly in cryptic riddles, but there was an implication that he might have a predisposition to magical abilities. That or he’s actively dying. He’s still piecing it together.

Stiles has grown unashamedly attached to her. 

Emilia taught Lydia some meditation techniques to quiet the voices in her head and ways to channel energy meaningfully so that she might parse what individual voices were saying at a given time. She gifted Allison a rather impression block of Amethyst - she said to keep it in her room, to sleep near it and it would help to heal her wounds - those visible and those not.

Of course, Scott wouldn’t let Derek kill anyone, despite that being the easiest answer to breaking the curse. Instead, they found a very, very complicated way of draining the other witch of her power entirely, leaving her all too human. The magic she once had gave her unnaturally prolonged life, but not youth - she shriveled into a helpless old thing and Derek mumbled that killing her probably would’ve been more merciful.

Emilia thanked them all, left them with gifts too; she bowed to Isaac instead of shaking his hand as she had with Boyd, Scott and Erica - she seemed to understand that he was fearful of her. She asked him if he would accept a gift from her and when he hesitantly nodded, she slipped off one of her own rings - it widened before their eyes to fit over Isaac’s.

“This is pink tourmaline,” Emilia explained, “It is calming and will draw love and joy to you. I sense there has been a lacking of tranquility, happiness and affection in your life - my good will and the gifting of this ring to you will change the tides. I thank you for your help, Isaac _da sé móna_.”

It was at that very moment that Isaac seemed to regret not spending more time with her. She sensed that too and patted his hand comfortingly. She ‘blessed,’ locks of Erica’s hair for safety and beauty, called her by the same ‘ _da sé móna_ ,’ title - the only physical evidence she’d done anything at all was the sparkle and glisten it gave the blonde once she was done. Stiles said something about calling Erica ‘Galadriel’ from there on out and everyone looked absolutely clueless to his reference - he was highly offended.

Boyd and Emilia stared at one another for a few seconds before Emilia announced softly, “the knowledge you desire from me is knowledge you already have obtained. If all you require is the reassurance that you are deserving, consider this your sign, Boyd _da sé móna_.”

Smiling in an unprecedented way, Boyd bowed to her and thanked her.

She gave Scott a Moonstone, but only whispers to him about why.

Emilia wound up lingering on Derek for a moment. Her eyes searched his for a few beats as she held both his hands in hers and then she said to him, “there is good reason the amber entices you; as the light draws west, it transmutes negative energy to positive, relieves sadness, promotes joy. It is also a powerful protector. You are not impure for being drawn to the amber, Derek Hale _þá wulfsladu_. It is a reflection and completion of you. I wish you all the best in your quest to acquire it.”

Stiles thought that was strange - Emilia was covered in trinkets that had amber on them. Why wouldn’t she just gift one of those things to Derek? Maybe Derek had to get it on his own or something.

It is as they’re all parting ways that she asks to speak to Stiles alone; Stiles follows her to the tree line and the Weres respectfully stay out of earshot.

“Is there a reason we needed to be alone?” Stiles asks.

“Your question and answer are of sensitive matters. You are very concentrated on keeping your loneliness from the others - you do this to protect them from pity and yourself from shame, but there is no cause for that. You have wondered if Allison and Scott are soulmates, if Lydia and her Kanima are fated as well."

Stiles' brows spring up and Emilia smiles kindly in reply, "Stiles. You seek the magic in the ordinary and so find the remarkable in what others cannot even begin to catch glimpses of. You have begun to see the strings of destiny as most others cannot and you fear destiny is unfriendly towards you. You wonder if you are fated to remain alone, if your loneliness is not for fault in you, but by the design of powers unknowable. You have been worried to ask me for insight on this issue - you fear you disrespect me with matters you misperceive as trivial.”

“I...”

He had thought of asking her - soulmates seem like a magical-type deal. If anyone would know about destiny and the powers of fate, it'd probably be a three-hundred year old witch of such gentle manner. Stiles thinks she's probably terrifying when she's furious - it's a pity her powers were dampened so much of the time they spent together. Clearly not dampened enough that she couldn't read his thoughts, though.

Not much point in lying to someone who can see so clearly through you, Stiles supposes.

He runs a hand through his hair and admits, “I’m... I guess... I'm just a person, you know? Like a single barely sentient thing floating around - I hardly matter in the infinity of the universe, so yeah. My problems seem pretty trivial. I thought about asking you, but I... you know, if I had one question I could ask, I’m torn cause I’d like to know if soulmates are real, if there’s someone out there for me and when I find them, everything will just, you know, slot into place. But if I ask that, I don’t think I can ask who they are or how to find them or when I’ll find them or _if_ I'll find them. If I ask you if I’ve got a soulmate at all and the answer is ‘no,’ then that doesn’t mean soulmates aren’t real, it just means _I_ haven’t got one and I'd probably feel lonelier than before. And if you say ‘yes,’ then I still don’t know who or how or when, you know? I just... I figured I’m better off not knowing any of it.”

Emilia tilts her head, switching her staff from one hand to the other. Stiles stares resolutely at her dirty, naked feet and idly wonders if witchcraft makes you immune to walking pains like Hobbits or something.

“Stiles. _Níedfréond da bealucræft_.”

Stiles’ eyes widen and his head snaps up - he has no idea what she’s just called him, but it sounds powerful and said with affection. He feels the honor of the title more than he understands it. Her eyes sparkle unnaturally.

“If I meant to tell you that your soulmate is someone you have already met, would you believe me?”

Heart skipping a beat and blood swirling up into his chest, out of his stomach, making him feel uncomfortably light, Stiles can only gape. His knees are weak. He thinks he can see power swarming her aura, thinks he can smell a dark sweetness that accompanies her spells and he too, thinks he might never see her again after this. His hands start shaking - they've been doing that, lately. Emilia has recommended Ametrine and Jasper to 'stoke' his Spark, help his sleep and ease his anxiety. He plans to buy some, though he's not sure where to purchase precious stones and gems. He trusts her. He's frightened of her leaving.

“Do not mourn, _fréawine_. I am long for this world yet and we are bound to meet again," Emilia comforts sweetly, "If ever you find yourself in trouble with magic folk, tell them that you are _fréawine_ to Emilia of the West Seas and if ever you need me, I will be there. You are doing extraordinary good in a world of void and dangerous apathy and with a company of good people. Dark times are upon us and your Spark is a beacon of light many will come to follow. I am glad to have an ally in you, Stiles. Yes, there are soulmates, yes, you have one and yes, you have already met them.”

“H-How will I know?” Stiles asks, eyes inexplicably watering, hands shaking more violently, “I really - Emilia, I really don’t want you to go...”

“I know, sweet _fréawine_. It is not by chance that we met, Stiles - the universe is rarely so careless and there is no such reality as coincidence, there is only inevitability. There will be more time for us. For now, I must be gone, though. Listen closely. That is how you will know.”

Taking another step toward her, Stiles leans in and Emilia leans in closer as well. Without tilting her head, she looks up to the night sky with her wide, dark eyes; they reflect every single star like an open jewelry case. She doesn't conduct or channel magic as much as she lives and breathes it.

“It is not on the wind, not in the trees or the Earth, waters or flames. There is the One within us - a name, our true names, the people we are and always have been. The people we are when we are alone, lying on our backs, staring up in to the night sky - that nameless person inside you that is the true you - you will hear it. Somewhere deep inside. You share that name - your friends do not know they have been touched by fates, but you are in tune with the ways of the universe. You will hear it. You will feel it, recognize that name as your own and then you will know.”

“But should I already know? If I’ve already met them, shouldn’t I have been able to tell? To hear it?” Stiles begs.

“One can never see what they are not looking for and never hear what they do not listen for - listen closely, _fréawine_ Stiles. Listen closely and you will hear, you will know and you will be loved.”

His heart aches and he's embarrassed to choke up.

“Emilia -”

“Until we meet again.”

She’s gone.

In less than a flash - less than a _blink_ , she’s just _gone_. No popping or zipping noise, no smoke or sparkles left behind - as if he had been talking to a ghost this entire time. A tear falls down his face and he wipes it away, breathing in deeply.

 _Emilia would want me to be happy_ , Stiles assures himself, finding a way to smile despite missing her like a sister he’s never had, _I’ve got a soulmate. I’ve got a **soulmate** and I’ve already met them - just gotta listen now. Just gotta listen. Just gotta listen... whatever the Hell that means..._

He stands there for a few moments longer, wishing Emilia would appear again, imagining her with a giant satchel full of magic texts and gems and stones and metals, saying, ‘just kidding, I’m moving in!’ and then completing his family. Maybe there are too many people in this world that need Emilia's guidance and want for her sisterhood. Stiles tries to take comfort in the promise that he'll see her again, someday. The moments pass in silence and he knows he’s moping, being childish. He takes a deep breath, tilts his head back and shuts his eyes against the starlight.

 _Someone I've already met_ , Stiles thinks, the allure of being loved barely on the tip of his tongue, so close that he aches but is simultaneously thrilled beyond reason, _It's not Scott and not Allison, not Jackson and not Lydia. I don't think it's Boyd or Erica either, but... maybe they haven't gotten together yet for a reason? It could be Isaac... ugh, I really hope it's not Isaac._

“You okay?”

Twisting around to face the voice that had snuck up on him, Stiles finds Derek staring back. Derek’s brow is furrowed in that worried way it gets and Stiles is compelled to rub his thumb over Derek’s concern to unwrinkled that otherwise perfect skin. If he keeps using those dramatic eyebrows all the time, he'll give himself early-aged wrinkles. Stiles has a brief thought that he's spending too much time with Lydia.

“Yeah,” Stiles answers, his voice a little unsteady, “Yeah, I...”

“You liked her,” Derek says knowingly, “I know. Goodbyes aren’t easy, but I get the feeling that’s not the last we’ll see of her.”

 _Is Derek Hale seriously trying to comfort me right now?_ Stiles wonders a little absurdly.

“Uhm, yeah,” Stiles replies, trying to regain his footing, “Yeah, she said - she said we’ll meet again.”

“Good,” Derek says awkwardly, "That's good."

The wind is gentle, the night summer air is sort of sweet and Stiles wonders if Derek has a soulmate. Stiles hopes he does - Derek deserves that. He deserves something wholly his and entirely pure.

He wonders if Derek's soulmate was Paige and his heart sinks.

If he lost his soulmate, would he know? Would he feel it in his bones? Does Derek know? He wonders if everyone’s got one or if he’s one of a lucky few - maybe soulmates are a rare thing to come by and he and his friends are outliers. He thinks he should make a list of questions when he gets home and just keep adding to it for the next time Emilia is with them - it'll be a long list by then, he's sure. He’s got roughly forty questions brewing right now and some of them are two or three-part questions.

“She give you anything?”

“Oh, uh,” Stiles starts, blushing a little, “not really. But she told me how to find it.”

“I was a little worried she was gonna give you that magic staff or something," Derek kids, "This may have qualified as some fucked up genre of ‘magical quest,’ but unless she wanted to wreak havoc on Beacon Hills, she would keep that staff to herself.”

Feigning offense, Stiles gasps and says, “I am wounded, Derek! I would never use a magic staff for evil!”

“Beacon Hills would still fall,” Derek jokes drily, “The hearts of men are weak and easily corrupted, after all.”

Derek turns around to walk back towards where Stiles assumes the rest of the Pack is and his whole face flushes.

“Oh my _God_! _Derek_! You _nerd_! You just quoted _Lord of the Rings_! Is this your super nerdy way of telling me you got my _Lord of the Rings_ joke from earlier? You totally got my _Lord of the Rings_ joke from earlier, didn’t you! _Didn’t you_ , you nerd! You secret nerd!”

“Technically the joke you made earlier was from _The Silmarillion_ , but yeah, I got it.”

“Galadriel makes appearances in both!”

“Yeah, but the original folklore about her hair first appears in _The Silmarillion_ , she only actually gives it away in _Lord of the Rings_.”

An enormous grin splits over Stiles’ face and he rushes up to push at Derek’s back playfully, barely moving the lug of muscle at all. He beams up at Derek despite Derek refusing to look at him.

“You know, not acknowledging my awesome Galadriel joke earlier for what it was is worse than having just laughed at it, as it deserved.”

“And how do you figure that?” Derek asks.

“Because now _I_ know you’re a secret nerd that can’t stand other nerds not knowing he got the in-joke and that means you and I have a secret _thing_. You’ve got a _bond_ with me now, Derek - an unbreakable bond of secret nerdom - and now if anyone finds out, they’ll know that - not only are you a secret nerd, but you were being a secret nerd with _me_ because _we_ have a _secret nerd thing_. _Together_. A _thing_.”

Smirking just barely, Derek mutters back, "I guess there are worse fates."

"Aw, you flatterer! I bet you say that to all the nice nerds," Stiles ribs, elbowing Derek's arm.

Derek doesn't reply, but the air around them is light and Stiles feels something hopeful blossoming in his chest. He's got a soulmate somewhere out there - someone who's waiting to love him, someone who will fit him just right and all he has to do is narrow down a slim list. He smiles when he catches the corner of Derek's eye and Derek quirks an inquisitive brow at him; Stiles just shakes his head to decline explaining his loopy grin.

He doesn't notice that the tremors in his hands stop as soon as the back of Derek's hand, quite by accident, brushes against his as they walk.

**Author's Note:**

> "Isaac da sé móna," in Old English very roughly translates into 'Isaac of the Moon,' which Emilia calls all the Weres except for Derek.
> 
> "Derek Hale þá wulfsladu," in Old English very roughly translates into, 'Derek Hale of the Valley of Wolves.'
> 
> “Stiles. Níedfréond da bealucræft," in Old English very roughly translates into, 'Stiles. Friend/Kin of Magic Craft.'
> 
> "Do not mourn, fréawine," in Old English very roughly translates into, 'Do not mourn, dear friend.'


End file.
